


Excerpt from “A Maid in the Middle, or, The First Trials of Miss Genna Vicker,” by Fufula Fula

by pudgy puk (deumion)



Series: a Scrapbook of Eorzean Magazine, Newspaper, and Book Clippings [3]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Cliffhanger, F/M, Fladge-Adjacent, Governesses, In-Universe Documents, Plot What Plot, Pseudo-Victorian Erotica, Trashy Romance Novels, repost
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-14
Updated: 2018-11-14
Packaged: 2019-08-23 18:33:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16624241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deumion/pseuds/pudgy%20puk
Summary: HEAR YE: Fufula Fula’s next great Masterpiece will grace the Ul’dahn Literary World two moons from this date, revealing the fascinating first history of the Beloved Miss Genna Vicker in the Frozen and Exotic Environs of Ishgard!(a repost of an old bit i wrote on my tumblr ages ago)





	Excerpt from “A Maid in the Middle, or, The First Trials of Miss Genna Vicker,” by Fufula Fula

**Author's Note:**

> I love fanfic in the in-universe document style, and am hunting down, editing, and reposting to this account some of my old samples of the stuff.

HEAR YE: Fufula Fula’s next great Masterpiece will grace the Ul’dahn Literary World two moons from this date, revealing the fascinating first history of the Beloved Miss Genna Vicker. After some discussion with the Good Lady Fufula we of the Sun-Jeweled Ladies’ Journal have secured an exclusive Excerpt to tantalize ours and the Good Lady’s audience until it might be purchased at the publishing house on Seven-Eighty-Seven Ruby Road, on the twenty-ninth sun of the fourth astral moon.

 

originally from

A Maid in the Middle, or, the First Trials of Miss Genna Vicker

by Fufula Fula

 

‘I had not had much cause or occasion to describe Governess Blaisie before this point, but if I am to relate the following shocking events, I suppose that I ought.

Mistress Blaisie, as I said in her first introduction, was dear Miss Roserette’s governess, kept on by her good Uncle and my good Master Roderic to ensure his niece’s instruction and discipline in all matters both worldly and moral. She was a tall woman, even for a fair Wildwood, and quite proper in her carriage and manner. I did not often hear men call her beautiful but she was instead a very handsome woman, with an aquiline nose and a strong jaw, but not so strong that the womanly softness of her rosy cheeks seemed diminished. Her mouth was set in a firm line that made her lips seem thinner than they were, but no less red, and her sky-blue eyes and honey-brown hair were always hidden behind rimmed spectacles or in buns. To seem harsh, and to be harsh, were very important to her, so much that it was a great wonder to me why such a good man as our Master Roderic would keep her on to train so sweet a girl as Miss Roserette. I know for a fact that the steward of the household fancied her a great deal though she despised him, and often to me the chocobokeep boy said she was a woman who’d like to see us all whipped, always waggling his eyebrows, but I was new to the ways of Ishgard then and so always disappointed him by not tittering along at his joke.

This, then, was the woman I had so foolishly crossed at her luncheon by my carelessness with such fine china and such fine herb tea. I promise that it did not take me the span of coeurl kitten’s mew before I regretted and repented of my actions before the Twelve, so towering was her fury. “Genna Vicker!,” cried she loudly, “I will see you in my chambers in a quarter-bell for your punishment, and Halone help me, you shall not sit for a sennight if you are even a minute tardy!” So affrighted was I that I forgot entirely that I must clean the mess, but fled up to her chambers immediately, madly afraid of being that minute tardy.

Well! Nary a second passed after closing the door before I felt quite the fool, running up here all red-faced and bosom-heaving. But sure was I that I should feel much more foolish if I went back down after my fearful exit, so I was at a loss for what to do. It was then, taking a minute to regain my composure, that I began to notice something dreadfully peculiar about Mistress Blaisie’s rooms.

To begin with, I saw that they were quite large, and quite fine, filled with fine Far Eastern china and Radz-at-Han cushions and carpets–goods one could scarcely afford on a governess’s salary, even one employed by so generous a man as Master Roderic. Indeed, it looked to be not a governess’s room, but one more befitting the lady of the manor, though dear Master Roderic had yet to take a bride. Filled by a powerful curiosity, I began to look around, even daring to poke at the silver dish by a nightstand, until from the corner of my eye I saw inside an opened wardrobe something truly surprising.

Mistress Blaisie, as I have said, was a most proper woman, though proud, and always made sure to be a proper governess. To that end, all her dresses were impeccably modest, buttoned from under her chin to her tidy black shoes, with only what lace trim befit a decent woman and not a thread more, and of serious colors no inquisitor could find objection to. The tailoring was impeccable, and I had never once seen her loosen her stays (as I furtively did, childish as I still was) for a bit to relax–no, she was always cinched tight enough that I imagined most Wildwood men might span her waist with their hands. But the dresses in that wardrobe did not suit a governess at all.

Their sleeves were loose, when they were present at all, and sometimes they were in two pieces that would expose her waist or more. It was not Ishgardian dress, no, not in the slightest! Why, should she have put these on, I thought in my shock, she would be indistinguishable from some Ul’dahn dancing girl! Mesmerized, and still afraid to believe my own eyes, I walked slowly to the wardrobe, as if by touching them I would know if such things were real or not. And–oh!–they were! What, I wondered, what would he think, if dear Master Roderic knew?

No sooner had I thought that, then there came a rapping at the door, before the sound of it being pushed open. My nerves still wrecked and failing me, I did not stand to face Mistress Blaisie coming to give me my just punishment, but instead leapt at once into the wardrobe, to hide among the dresses: a foolish act, yes, but you must recall, I was but a foolish girl of eighteen summers.

But to my surprise, and incumbent mortification, it was not Mistress Blaisie who entered the room, rather, and I blush still just remembering it, Master Roderic! I watched, fearfully bewildered, as he entered the chambers with only that short rap at the door to announce him, and–oh! how my heart hammered!–approached the wardrobe and even reached inside of it!

He did not see me, quailing like a rabbit, but instead took one of the dresses in hand. This was the closest I had yet been to Master Roderic, and was able to see him now quite clearly. He was a handsome man, and kind usually, with often a smiling mouth. His hair was russet and shoulder-length, as was the fashion in Ishgard, his ears a good length without being too broad. Of course, I had known all this before, but it seemed more clear now than ever before.

I expected him to fling the clothes away in surprise and disgust, like any decent man of Ishgard must, but nothing of the sort happened. Instead, he rubbed the fabric together between thumb and forefinger and bent close to it to smell it! I scarcely had any time to gasp in surprise, though, as just then the door opened, and this time it was Mistress Blaisie, whom I recognized by the clack of her heeled shoes and her cross greeting of Master Roderic.

“My lord,” she said, “You must cease doing this.” I heard no shame or fear in her voice for seeing such immodest clothes being fondled by her employer, and I daresay were I not needing to remain hidden I could have scolded her for such boldness.

“Dear Blaisie,” Master Roderic said, stepping away from the wardrobe, “whyever must I? I pay such good coin for them, after all.”

My curiosity, I must confess, was getting the better of me. Like a silly child, once Master Roderic had turned away, I crept closer to the opening of the door, and most cautiously tried to peer out without being seen.

“I’m to discipline that hyur girl in a moment’s time, my lord, we haven’t the ti–oh!” I had never heard such a soft ‘oh’ issue from the throat of so fearsome a woman, and craning my neck, I saw the reason: Master Roderic, planting sweet kisses on her white neck!

“Surely you’ve a moment, you just said so,” my Master Roderic said, in his deep voice, “Or can you not discipline me as well?”

Mistress Blaisie had taken up her riding crop already, surely to whip my poor buttocks with, but now I could see her use it to hitch up her own skirts, revealing that she wore nothing betwixt garter and garter belt! “I suppose she’s off blubbering somewhere,” the governess whispered, “Which will make it all the sweeter, when she does show her face.”

My breath ran fast, even as I tried to quiet it, terrified of being overheard, yet so strangely excited. As I watched, not daring to blink, dear Master Roderic pulled Mistress Blaisie to the couch in her rooms, and there laid her down, so very lovely with her white skin against the dark fabric and I could quite clearly see how agreeable his kisses were to her Saint-Cecile. She began to pant and her bosom heaved against its stays, I watched enraptured–then sneezed.

And as both looked towards the wardrobe, I heard Mistress Blaisie pick up her riding crop…’

_The full novel will be published on the twenty-ninth sun of the fourth astral moon, at Seven-Eighty-Seven Ruby Road, and For Sale that same day, fifteen gil coins apiece!_

**Author's Note:**

> I didn’t take all those vic lit courses for nothing.


End file.
